


Three Days

by m02611



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27175429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m02611/pseuds/m02611
Summary: Aang and Katara's wedding is in three days. Katara is impatient. / / Fluffy and sickly sweet Kataang smut.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	Three Days

It was going to happen. It was going to happen. She was going to make it happen.

Katara walked with purpose down the bank of the river. The entire group of them — Aang, Katara, Sokka, Suki, Toph, and Zuko — had flown on Appa all the way from the Fire Nation Capital. They had stopped for the final night in their journey before reaching her family's home - the Southern Water Tribe.

Upon their arrival at their campsite for the night, Aang had quickly excused himself from the group to go find a river, citing a desire to wash the day's journey off before going to sleep. Katara had stayed with the others as they built a fire and cooked dinner, but soon made a vague excuse and wandered off to find Aang.

She conveniently ignored the lewd glance that Toph and Suki shared at her expense.

Walking briskly along the path down which Aang had disappeared earlier, she thought fondly of her fiancé.

Fiancé, she thought, rolling the still unfamiliar word over in her mind. Three days. Her wedding was in three days. Three days and the most powerful bender in the world would be hers for the rest of their lives. She fingered her mother's betrothal necklace around her neck with a private little smile.

She was still smiling to herself when she came upon him.

She drew a sharp breath at the sight. Seventeen years old, the Avatar definitely wasn't the little boy trapped in the iceberg anymore — he towered over her by at least a foot. His body was still lean and thin, but now taut with cords of muscle from years of dedicated training. He had filled out generously — thank the Spirits — after an awkward but adorable lanky phase at fifteen. He seemed to have finished washing himself and was standing idly in the water, stretching his arms behind his back.

She felt her fingers twitch as she imagined tracing the light blue tattoo that trailed down the curve of his spine and disappeared beneath his underclothes. She wanted to lick his flat stomach, the diagonal lines of his hips that led to an area she had never been able to see or touch or explore. She wanted to claw her nails into his back, to feel him move against her —

In a sudden and erratic movement, Katara unlashed her robe and left it in a heap on the shore. Clothed only in her bindings and underthings, she waded into the river silently, enjoying the cool water that splashed against her legs and soothed her spirit. She looked to the full moon hanging in the night sky above them and felt its power running through her, making the water pulsing in her veins, making her feel wild and impulsive. She inhaled deeply to steady herself.

Aang knew that she was there, of course. Toph had taught him well enough that his spatial awareness was almost as developed as her own. Though he faced away from her, Katara knew that he could sense every single creature, both large and small, that moved in the surrounding area — including her.

Still, though, she stayed quiet as she approached him from behind. Without a word she wrapped one arm around his stomach and pressed her cheek to his warm back, tracing his tattoo with her free hand.

"Hello there," Aang said with a fond laugh, turning round in her arms and pressing his forehead to hers. Unsatisfied with a simple hug, she moved quickly to kiss him. After a moment or two he tried to pull away and look her in the eye, but she gripped his shoulders forcefully and deepened their kiss, unrelenting.

Aang yielded at first to her unspoken need, letting his fiancée press her lips to his for a few deliciously quiet minutes. He allowed her hands to rove wildly about his bare torso, his own fingers buried in her hair. He opened his mouth with a contented sigh and granted access to her probing tongue.

But when her hands slipped beneath his underclothes and moved to cup his rear, he tore his mouth away with a groan. This time, he pulled his body away too, capturing her wrists in his hands with an unbreakable grip.

"Katara," he said huskily. There was a wordless reprimand in the clipped tone of his voice.

She intended to let out a moan to convey her frustration, but the noise came out sounding more like a battlecry than anything else. "Aaaurgh!" she said, butting her forehead against his chest.

Snorting, Aang loosened his grip on her wrists and enveloped her in a tight hug instead, his strong arms wrapped around her shoulders. "What's the matter, sweetie?"

"S'not fair," she mumbled against his chest.

"What's not fair?" he hummed, stroking her hair in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

"You know what's not fair." She took a step back and fixed him with her sternest glare. "Don't you play dumb."

"Are you gonna wag your finger at me, Sifu Katara?" he asked with a cheeky grin, quickly ducking to avoid the water whip she threw at his face with a flick of her wrist. He fixed his features into a look of mock-contrition and playfully grabbed her hand. "Because that might be pretty sexy."

"Don't talk to me about sexy!" she said shrilly, refusing to allow herself to laugh along with him. "Why won't you let me touch you? Why can't we be together... like this?"

"Katara," he groaned, turning away from her and walking a few paces away in the water. "We'll be married in three days. We can wait until then."

"Exactly!" she cried. "We'll be married in three days anyway! Why not just—" She waved her hands in the air ineffectually. She knew she must look like a crazy person. "Why can't we?"

This was not going the way that she had wanted it to.

He looked at her with an odd combination of amusement and regret, and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to the top of her head. "Let's get out of the water, sweetie. It's getting cold."

"You're not allowed to change the subject," she said, but followed, arms crossed, as he waded back to the shore.

"I'm not changing the subject," he said, bending the drops of water off both their bodies with one hand and holding out the crumpled robe she had discarded on the ground with the other.

She took her robe and looked away pointedly as he dressed, unwilling to subject herself to what could only be classified as torture. Out of the corner of her eye, she could still see the muscles of his torso flex as he pulled his tunic over his head. It would be so easy to just waltz over... push him to the ground... She shook her head clear, pulled on her own clothes haphazardly, and tied the belt of her robe with a huff.

"C'mere," he said, sitting cross legged on the sand with a hand outstretched.

She acquiesced reluctantly, allowing him to pull her down to sit across from him. She hugged her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees, looking down at her toes digging into the sand. She felt a million years old, and she was just nineteen.

"So, you're not changing the subject?" she asked, carefully keeping the pout out of her voice.

"I'm not changing the subject." He took her chin in his hand and lifted it so she was forced to meet his eyes. "I love you, Katara," he said firmly. "I need you to understand that."

She nodded, but pulled her head away from his grasp. "I know you do."

He persisted, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand, and she leaned into it despite herself. "And I don't want you to think that I don't want you. I do want you." He paused. "Desperately."

She felt a fire ignite in her lower belly at his words, a feeling unlike any she had ever felt before. His voice was so low. Desperately. "Then why do we need to wait until the wedding?" she asked, her voice frustratingly high and timorous.

He sighed and looked away from Katara for a moment, eyes focused far in the distance, as if seeing something that wasn't there. "I don't know if I've ever told you about the Air Nomads' view of sex."

She felt a hot flush rise to her cheeks. It was so strange to hear Aang say "sex" so explicitly, so frankly. They had never overtly discussed it before. "No, you haven't."

"It was…" He trailed off, searching for the right words. "It was beautiful."

He seemed reluctant to continue. She nodded and took his hand, silently urging him to continue.

"For the Air Nomads, sex was something sacred and natural. It wasn't shameful or crude or dirty. It was something you did with the person you loved, to honor and sanctify your love. To deepen your bond with the person you chose to spend your life with."

"And we love each other."

Aang smiled at her, a soft and sweet smile that filled her with guilt. "Yes. We do love each other."

"I don't understand, Aang," she said, all frustration gone from her voice. She couldn't be mad at him when he was like this — wistful and sad, sweet and gentle. "Help me understand."

"I don't want to make love to you for the first time on a sandy beach, with our friends a short walk away. I want to take care of you." He cupped her face again in his hand. "I want to honor what we have together."

Katara placed her hand over his and turned to press a kiss into his palm. Abandoning entirely her attitude of sullen rejection, she scooted closer to him so she could worm her way beneath his outstretched arm.

They had spent the entire night pushing away and pulling back, back and forth like the water passed between them in bending practice. She was sick of it — she wanted him near.

"I understand. Of course we can wait."

He hugged her close to his side. "Thank you, Katara."

They sat that way for what felt like a very long time, sides pressed closely together. Aang hummed a little song under his breath, and Katara traced little figure eights on the bare skin of his arm. The night air was cool and crisp, and smelled like summers in the South. It felt like home, like ice and snow and warm fires.

It was about time they should head back to camp. She leaned into him playfully before sitting up and shrugging off his arm. "Besides, I've waited five years to marry you. The least I can do is wait three years to steal your virtue."

His laugh sounded just like it had when they were children together, but different somehow. Deeper. More masculine. She shivered at the sound.

"Wouldn't I be the one stealing your virtue?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her suggestively.

"Absolutely not," she said primly, with a haughty sniff. "You're much more innocent than I am."

She flipped her loose hair over one shoulder. And all of a sudden, she was flat on her back in the sand.

Aang hovered over her with an almost menacing look in his eye. "That's true," he said, placing a knee on each side of her hips. "You are anything but innocent."

Caught off guard, she breathed his name. "This is not..." She trailed off breathily as he leaned in and kissed her neck. "This is not waiting."

"Have I ever told you how much I love when you keep your hair down?" he whispered, nipping at her ear lobe.

"Aang," she whispered. "Aang, what are you doing?"

He pressed every inch of himself against her, his chest on her chest, his hips on her hips, his mouth on her skin. "Nothing. Maybe. Honoring my love for you?" he whispered against her neck.

"Aang," she said frantically, using all the will she could muster to try and stop him, even as her hips bucked up against his, seemingly of their own accord. She could not believe she was the one stopping this. "It's okay, sweetie. It's okay. I can wait."

He shushed her gently. "We're still waiting. I have... other plans for tonight." To Katara's chagrin, he stopped his attentions to her neck. "Is that okay?"

Her stomach fluttered at the serious look in his eyes, at the feel of his hips pressed against her own. "More than okay."

He placed a line of kisses along her jawline, down her neck, across her collarbone, and she could no longer form the words to stop him. He tugged softly at the belt of her robe. "This isn't tied right, anyway."

She let out a choked laugh and helped him undo the messy knot and slip the robe off her body. She had just disrobed in front him not half an hour ago, and yet she felt shy, exposed. She could feel her hardened nipples poking against her thin linen wrappings, and she shivered in the cold night air.

Pausing a moment and sitting up, he cupped his hands around his mouth and blew into them. She gasped when he returned his hand to her bare waist — his fingers were blazing hot against her skin, and her hips bucked into his involuntarily. All her shyness disappeared as he returned to his ministrations against her collarbone, alternating between kissing and licking and nibbling at a pace that left her squirming and breathless. His breath was so hot, unnaturally hot, and it was igniting a different kind of fire within her.

He gingerly fingered the bindings that covered her breasts. "Can I take these off?"

"If you don't, I will," she gasped.

His hands were so tender, so gentle as he unwound the thin fabric from her body. Her chest completely bared to him, he nestled his face where her neck met her shoulder. She could feel his warm breath coming short and fast against her skin.

"Ah, fuck," he groaned into the crook of her neck, then pulled away to look her in the eyes. The unexpected expletive sent a thrill of electricity down her spine. "You are so beautiful, Katara."

He cupped one breast in his hand, and lowered his mouth to the other. As he kissed and licked and massaged her chest, she writhed beneath him, walking a tense line between absolute pleasure and need, need for more, a need for him that she couldn't imagine ever being satisfied.

And quickly, her need for more was satisfied. He left her breasts to place a line of open-mouthed kisses down the middle of her stomach, moving further and further south until he reached her underwear, the last piece of fabric covering her body. Without preamble, he hooked two fingers around the waistband and pulled them down her legs in one swift movement, his mouth never leaving her skin.

She kicked her legs wildly to fling her underwear off somewhere in the darkness, she didn't know where, she didn't care, his mouth was so hot and wet against her skin and she thought she might burst with wanting him. His name was like a prayer that she whispered over and over into the night air as he pressed kiss after kiss against her hip bones, her stomach, the patch of curly brown hair hiding the most private part of her body.

He pushed gently to open her legs and lifted her hips to his face. All at once he was licking her fully, flat tongue pushing against her. "Aang!" she cried in surprise.

His tongue pressed there again and again, licking incessantly at a spot of pleasure she never knew existed. She made no effort to stop the gasps and moans that escaped from her mouth as he brought her a pleasure beyond anything she had ever known.

She thought to herself over and again there is no pleasure beyond this there is no place in the world I would rather be until he slipped a single finger inside her and her entire world focalized to a pinpoint, the area between her legs, and all thoughts left her mind. His finger pumped slowly in and out of her as he sucked gently on that same nub of pleasure.

Undone, she bore her hips down against his hand. The feeling of him inside her was exquisite and she wanted more, more of it, more of him, all of him. She briefly thought she might die. And at last, he crooked his finger and pressed up against her wall, and her mind and body exploded.

Pleasure rushed like flames from the center of her groin all the way to the ends of her fingers and toes. She opened her mouth in a noiseless gasp and shuddered, felt her walls clamping around his finger in her climax. She rode the waves of pleasure senselessly, lost absolutely to the world, clutching his shoulders just to have something to hold on to, to ground her to existence. He placed his free hand on her waist, keeping her in place as she writhed against him.

As she shuddered and the waves of pleasure subsided, he withdrew his finger but continued to press kisses against her mound, gently guiding her back and calming her.

"Oh, Aang," she gasped, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

He slid up the length of her body to lie by her side, head propped up on one hand. "Are you okay?"

"Entirely," she said, rolling onto her side and nestling into his chest. He smelled like sweat and the woods and something she could never put her finger on - fresh, like the air on a brisk cold morning.

"Where on earth did you learn to do that?"

He laughed. "I don't think you'll like the answer."

"Tell me!" Images of youthful and pony-tailed Air Acolyte girls ran through her mind.

He rubbed his face against her hair, inhaling deeply. "Uh... Suki."

"Suki?"

"Yeah," he replied. "I told Zuko how nervous I was about the wedding night and I guess he asked Suki to give me some... advice. From personal experience, I guess."

"Oh," Katara said, nuzzling closer. "Oh, gross."

"Knew you'd hate that," he said, still laughing.

As he held her in the sand, she could feel his hardness press against her stomach. She moved her hand to grip him through his pants, but he canted his hips away and drew her even closer to him. "No, Katara. Tonight was just for you. Unlike some people, I can wait three days."

Their laughs echoed in the cool summer night.

* * * * *

"What do you think is taking Aang and Katara so long?" Sokka stood from his place around the campfire. Having finished his dinner of roasted possum chicken, there was no longer anything distracting him from the prolonged absence of his sister and friend.

Toph glanced sharply at Suki and raised her eyebrows in an expression that clearly said Control your boyfriend. Suki coughed and sat up a little straighter. "It's a full moon, they're probably practicing their waterbending. I think Katara mentioned some new scrolls she found in a shop the other day..."

"I dunno," Sokka said, a worried look on his face. "They've been gone a long time."

"They're probably fine, Sokka," Zuko said, sipping his tea.

Sokka stared worriedly into the distance, fingering the hilt of his sword.

Toph put down her skewer of meat. "Sokka, I can see them. They're fine." She glared at him meaningfully. "We've been traveling together for a while now. They probably wanted some time alone."

"Oh," he said, sitting back down. After a second of contemplation, his eyes widened in understanding. "OH!" he shouted, leaping up from his seat and racing toward the path. "Aang! Aang! What are you doing to my sister?!"


End file.
